I paid $8.93 per gallon of gas the other day. If this keeps up it’s going to put the serious kibosh on my grocery bill. And by “grocery bill” I mean “lap dances.”
So, in an effort to stem my demand and increase my supply, I parked my car at the airport, and took a long weekend in Baku. Where I spent a day on the beach skimming the gentle, rolling waves of the Caspian Sea for extra leakage from the oil platforms parked the few km off the coast. The rest of the time was spent practicing essential Russian terms such as, ‘Breakfast in Bed,’ ‘Candle Lit Bath,’ ‘Oil Massage,’ and ‘Dishes. Do Them Now.’
I also had the pleasure to meet a nice young man on the flight to Istanbul this morning. Eighteen years old and his first time on an airplane and out of his home country of Azerbaijan, I couldn’t help but recollect my first memory of flying. Then, I thought I’d spoil it for him by screaming, “OHMYGODOHMYGODOHMYGODWE’REGONNADIE!!”
Didn’t quite have the effect I was going for seen as how we hadn’t yet left the gate. But I still think he soiled himself a little. And once we got to altitude, he was clearly struggling sitting next to the window, so I said he should either roll down the window for some fresh air or he can do switchies for my isle seat. Perplexed and looking pale, he slid into my seat, and the Emergency Exit Row seat responsibilities were now safely in my possession.
Now, a plea to all you New Yorkers, if you see a young man wearing jeans and black shirt, dark hair, about 5’ 5” with dark Caucus-states features speaking in debilitating broken English wandering around the streets of Manhattan, please help the kid out. It’s his first time away from home and you’re his host for the next 4 months. I’ve already laid down the Welcome mat to America and Americans by treating him to a Starbucks coffee at the airport this morning. It’s up to you to sustain the goodness. The wholesomeness. The hostessness that is you, America.
Also, turns out he’s a tea drinker because his digestive system can’t handle coffee but I didn’t know that. So don’t fu*k that one up again.
So, in an effort to stem my demand and increase my supply, I parked my car at the airport, and took a long weekend in Baku. Where I spent a day on the beach skimming the gentle, rolling waves of the Caspian Sea for extra leakage from the oil platforms parked the few km off the coast. The rest of the time was spent practicing essential Russian terms such as, ‘Breakfast in Bed,’ ‘Candle Lit Bath,’ ‘Oil Massage,’ and ‘Dishes. Do Them Now.’
I also had the pleasure to meet a nice young man on the flight to Istanbul this morning. Eighteen years old and his first time on an airplane and out of his home country of Azerbaijan, I couldn’t help but recollect my first memory of flying. Then, I thought I’d spoil it for him by screaming, “OHMYGODOHMYGODOHMYGODWE’REGONNADIE!!”
Didn’t quite have the effect I was going for seen as how we hadn’t yet left the gate. But I still think he soiled himself a little. And once we got to altitude, he was clearly struggling sitting next to the window, so I said he should either roll down the window for some fresh air or he can do switchies for my isle seat. Perplexed and looking pale, he slid into my seat, and the Emergency Exit Row seat responsibilities were now safely in my possession.
Now, a plea to all you New Yorkers, if you see a young man wearing jeans and black shirt, dark hair, about 5’ 5” with dark Caucus-states features speaking in debilitating broken English wandering around the streets of Manhattan, please help the kid out. It’s his first time away from home and you’re his host for the next 4 months. I’ve already laid down the Welcome mat to America and Americans by treating him to a Starbucks coffee at the airport this morning. It’s up to you to sustain the goodness. The wholesomeness. The hostessness that is you, America.
Also, turns out he’s a tea drinker because his digestive system can’t handle coffee but I didn’t know that. So don’t fu*k that one up again.
